


Bexploder 3000

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/F, Romance through poor industrial safety practices, Steampunk, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Charlotte Flair, intrepid reporter, visits the a new inventor in town to see what her mysterious devices are all about. They spark, and so do some of the machines.
Relationships: Charlotte/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2019





	Bexploder 3000

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arcturus_Sinclair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcturus_Sinclair/gifts).

> Steampunk AU based on Becky’s old steampunk gimmick, and also inspired by a random AU generator. Happy Femslashex!

Charlotte Flair, reporter for the Daily Observer, walked at a brisk clip down the hallway of the industrial complex. Her heeled boots clicked with an echo through the corridor.

She was here to interview the scientist running the joint now—a woman with a vision for a new Kayfabe City, one that would take them into a new era of brass and science. 

Charlotte wondered what she was really up to. She adjusted her glasses and checked her watch again: she was on time, as always, ready to make an entrance.

The press release had said: Woman scientist Becky Lynch debuts the Bexploder 3000, a revolutionary steam device that would... Do something. Charlotte wasn’t fully up to date on her overly excited inventor jargon, but she could fake it well enough. She was a Flair, after all.

Charlotte’s eyes fell on the person who had to be Becky and her red hair and her apron, working on a machine the size of a house. She was using a wrench the size of a man’s arm and putting all her weight into turning a part that finally budged with a squealing noise of metal.

Becky sagged, dropped the wrench, and pushed her goggles back up onto her head, acknowledging her visitor.

“Stop staring and come in,” she said. 

“Of course. I am wearing closed-toed shoes, as requested,” Charlotte said, entering primly and sitting down on a lone metal chair in the middle of a space occupied by some kind of a rotary cutter, a mill, several devices she couldn’t name, and the hulking brass behemoth that had to be the Bexploder.

“The Observer said they were sending someone to report on the—“

“Is that it?” Charlotte glanced over the tops of her glasses at the thing.

“My baby,” Becky purred. “Eight and a half tons and pretty as a picture.”

“Oh, I’m not the photographer,” Charlotte said.

Becky laughed and leaned against a tool that was giving off a blue electric haze. “You must be Charlotte Flair.” Charlotte felt a thrill go through her at the way this woman pronounced her name. Shair-lotte. “I’m Becky Lynch. Welcome to my factory.”

“Charmed.“

“I didn’t know they were sending a woman this time.”

Charlotte felt the old defensiveness coming back. “I’m the best reporter in Kayfabe City. I—“

“I know, I read your work. Your expose on the Susanville factory fire was amazing.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

Becky smiled and her eyes were warm. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her apron and looked expectantly at Charlotte. “So.”

Charlotte frowned. “Um, would you like to sit while we talk? Somewhere?”

“You took my chair,” Becky said with a wry grin. She grabbed a wooden crate and turned it upside down, sitting nearly at Charlotte’s feet. “How’s this.” They were very close. Charlotte could feel the warmth coming off of the woman’s body. 

“It’ll do.”

“Only the best for Charlotte Flair.”

She looked around at the scattered greasy rags, tools, empty boxes, and the complete lack of furniture or comforts of home. “Do get visitors often?”

“Investors, but they don’t stay long. At least before. Now I have…”

They both looked up at the round, bulbous, machine, taller than the two of them put together.

“What made you want to be an...inventor?”

“I’m more of a bodger, really. I just hammer one thing to another until it does what I want it to do. I just hammer a little more creatively than most. Do you like to hammer, Miss Flair?”

“Charlotte, please. I can’t say I ever have.”

“It’s thrilling.”

“Are all inventors this forward,” Charlotte said.

“You just said I could call you Charlotte.”

“I did.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs. This woman in the goggles was intriguing and she wanted to know more.

“Where is your accent from?”

“Ireland. I came here as a girl looking for work, and now I own this whole…”

“Shed?”

“It is  _ not _ a shed,” Becky snorted.

“What is it?”

“It will be a factory,” Becky said. “A good one, where workers will be treated right and we will change the world.” She got an idealistic gleam in her eye. 

“You don’t think you’re going to become the Man eventually, just like everyone else with any power in this town?”

“It’ll never happen.” Becky shook her head, her red braided hair gleaming.

Charlotte stood up off the chair, her boot brushing against Becky’s coveralls as she rose. “Can I have a tour?”

Becky smirked. “How much do you want to learn about semiconductors today?”

“Try me,” Charlotte said firmly.”

They circled the giant hangar they were in and toured some of the connected storage and processing rooms, chatting animatedly. Charlotte took notes in a tiny spiral notebook. They walked close through a narrow hallway.

“Here,” Becky said, putting her arm through Charlotte’s, “let me, There’s a lot to trip over in here.”

Charlotte never blushed but she felt hot. “Thanks.”

By the time they wound their way back to where they started they were both feeling hot.

“You should have brought a photographer,” Becky said. 

“He didn’t want to come,” Charlotte groaned.

Becky pressed her lips together in a grimace. “Yeah. I’ve heard that one before. You’re the only ones that even replied to my press release.”

They stood arm in arm, contemplating the machine, seeing their distorted reflections in the metal.

“Tell me about what it does.” Charlotte leaned forward. 

“How about I turn it on and show you,” Becky said. She withdrew her arm and went over to a panel of switches, dials, and indicators. She punched in a numerical code on a keypad, turned a key, and pulled an enormous lever.

The Bexploder 3000 vibrated to life. It made the whole room vibrate.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Charlotte said, raising voice over the machine noise.

“Mostly,” Becky said, coming back over. She slipped her goggles back down her face. 

The room was lit with an eerie green glow as one after another, lights came on all over the machine. A great section of the center of the machine began to turn and hum. All the while, everything was shaking.

Then one of the light bulbs exploded in a spray of glass.

“Oh, no,” Becky said.

The floor started shaking and Charlotte was having a hard time hanging on.

They clutched at each other, while Becky tried to inch them closer to the manual shutdown lever. “Something is wrong. Something is different this time,” Becky shouted.

The vibrations were almost more than Charlotte could take. She could barely stand, her whole body felt like it was on fire from this machine, and she was next to the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life. She grabbed Becky’s hand as more light bulbs shattered.

The off lever was stuck and wouldn’t budge, even as they both leaned on it.

“We need to get to the emergency cutoff,” Becky said. “Come on.”

They staggered though a minefield of shaking equipment to the back wall and an electrical panel.

“This?” Charlotte asked, pointing to another mysterious lever. 

“Yes,” Becky said. On three.”

“You need to label your switches.” Charlotte grimaced.

“What kind of mad scientist would I be then?”

“I thought you were an inventor.”

They both placed their hands on the lever.

“Eh, the gimmicks all bleed together eventually. One, two, three!”

They pulled with all their combined strength and cut off the power to the room. The machine gave a final lurch as all the lights died, and they tumbled to the floor.

It was dark. They groped for each other, hands exploring, finding hands. Charlotte ran a finger down Becky’s goggles.

“Was that the Bexplosion?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“It’s not supposed to do that,” Becky said weakly. “Maybe it’s the Observer effect.” She chuckled.

“Was that a pun?”

“‘Fraid so.”

They lay in silence.

“If at first you don’t succeed,” Charlotte said. “Isn’t that what scientists say?”

Becky threaded a hand through a lock of Charlotte’s hair, removing some debris with gentle fingers. “At least I’m in good company.”


End file.
